As I sit here watching the NBA playoffs unfold with their characteristic intensity, I can't help but draw parallels between the grueling journey to the championship and the progression system I recently experienced in Avowed. Just as that game's flawed mechanics forced players into narrow specialization, I'm seeing similar patterns emerge in how NBA teams are building their rosters for the long haul. The question of who will claim the 2025 NBA championship isn't just about current performance—it's about which organization has constructed a system resilient enough to withstand the brutal scaling of competition over multiple seasons.
Let me explain this connection more clearly. In Avowed, the enemy scaling based on gear tiers rather than traditional levels created what I'd call an artificial difficulty curve. Teams face something similar in the NBA—the competition doesn't just get numerically harder through player development alone, but through the acquisition of superstar talent and strategic advantages that create new tiers of competitiveness. The Denver Nuggets' current roster construction reminds me of trying to maintain multiple weapon types in Avowed—initially promising, but ultimately unsustainable against properly scaled opposition. Their core players have carried tremendous minutes loads this season—Nikola Jokic averaging 34.7 minutes per game despite his massive offensive responsibilities—and I'm seeing the wear and tear accumulate in these playoff battles.
What fascinates me about the 2025 championship picture is how teams are addressing this scaling challenge. The Boston Celtics have taken what I'd call the "crafting materials hoarding" approach—they've accumulated so much talent that they can afford to upgrade multiple positions simultaneously without facing the scarcity problem. With Jayson Tatum and Jaylen Brown both under long-term contracts, plus that deep supporting cast, they've essentially stockpiled enough resources to keep pace with any enemy tier the league throws at them. Their regular season record of 64-18 wasn't just impressive—it demonstrated they had answers for every type of opponent schematic.
Meanwhile, out in Oklahoma City, we're seeing what happens when you discover an unconventional path around the progression system. The Thunder remind me of finding that one overpowered weapon combination that bypasses the intended gear treadmill. Their analytical approach to roster construction—emphasizing length, versatility, and financial flexibility—has given them what I estimate to be approximately $35 million in potential cap space heading into next season, plus a war chest of draft picks. They're playing a different game entirely, one where traditional constraints don't apply in the same way.
The Western Conference specifically presents what game designers would call an "unbalanced progression curve." Just when you think you've scaled to handle one type of challenge—say, Denver's methodical half-court execution—you encounter the Mavericks' explosive perimeter scoring or the Timberwolves' suffocating defense. This creates exactly the kind of specialization pressure I felt in Avowed, where adapting to multiple threat types becomes nearly impossible with limited resources. I've noticed coaches increasingly narrowing their rotations earlier in playoffs, essentially committing to their "main weapon" rather than maintaining flexibility.
My personal take—and I'll admit my bias here toward team-building creativity—is that the 2025 champion will be whichever organization best solves this scaling problem. The traditional approach of stacking multiple superstars has become what I'd call "merchant expensive"—the acquisition costs are astronomical, and the ongoing resource drain makes maintaining depth nearly impossible. We saw this with Phoenix spending approximately $150 million just on their starting lineup, creating a top-heavy construction that couldn't withstand injury variables.
What intrigues me more are teams like Indiana, who've built what I consider a "balanced loadout"—multiple players capable of primary creation, complementary skillsets that cover defensive weaknesses, and enough youth to handle the 82-game regular season grind before the real competition begins. Their pace-and-space system isn't dependent on any single player reaching a new gear tier, but rather on collective execution that scales more gracefully against different opponent types.
The financial mechanics of the new CBA are essentially the NBA's version of crafting material scarcity. The second apron restrictions act exactly like those greedy merchants in Avowed—they don't just make upgrades expensive, they actively limit your options for improving existing assets. Teams that committed massive resources to their current cores are finding themselves unable to add the necessary role players to compete with more balanced rosters. I've calculated that at least 7 contenders will be hard-capped by these restrictions next season, creating what I believe will be a significant competitive imbalance.
If I had to place my bet right now—and this goes against conventional wisdom—I'd look toward teams that have maintained what game designers call "build diversity." Boston obviously comes to mind with their combination of elite talent and depth, but I'm increasingly fascinated by what New York has built. Their acquisition of OG Anunoby gave them a defensive specialist that effectively counters multiple opponent types, while Jalen Brunson provides the scalable offensive engine you need against playoff defenses. They've essentially created what I'd call a "modular" roster—pieces that can be reconfigured for different challenges without requiring complete overhaul.
The championship journey always reveals which teams understood the meta before everyone else. Back in Avowed, I eventually realized that focusing entirely on my preferred playstyle rather than adapting to the game's demands was holding me back. NBA teams face the same revelation—the 2025 champion won't necessarily be the most talented collection of individuals, but the organization that correctly identified how the competition would scale and built accordingly. Based on what I'm seeing develop, the team that lifts the Larry O'Brien trophy in June 2025 will have solved the progression puzzle that currently baffles so many front offices.